


Musings

by car_yl



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M, Gen, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/car_yl/pseuds/car_yl
Summary: Karrin's just thinking about Harry. Likes and well likes.
Relationships: Harry Dresden - Relationship, Harry Dresden/Karrin Murphy, Karrin Murphy - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	Musings

**Author's Note:**

> Borrowing Mr. Butcher's characters and universe again.  
> No one is going to read this for days 'cause Battle Ground just came out. But I'm putting it up before I lose it.

**Musings**

The first thing that attracted me to Harry Dresden was his hands. Not the first thing I noticed or knew about him, just the first thing I found beautiful and desirable. I hadn’t even accepted all his claptrap about magic being real at the time. I thought he was a charlatan. Yet, he knew about rituals and people who believed in all that hocus-pocus and he was really good at finding things. His hands.. yeah, the way he used them; drawing circles, holding crystals, using them to punctuate his speech, I liked all of that.

Yes, he’s a big guy and they are proportional to his height to start with. So, they’re larger than the average male’s but it’s more than the size; it’s that they’re so nimble, flexible, beautiful. They’re thin, like the rest of him. His palm is narrow and a bit shorter in proportion making his fingers seem even longer. Even after his left hand was burned, I still liked his hands. Even with the scars.

I may have a thing about scars too. Um, have you ever seen Lethal Weapon 3 where Mel Gibson and Rene Russo or rather their characters are comparing scars and it gets, well, romantic? Yeah, Harry and I can play that game. He's got more scars than me now, and I know the stories behind most of his because I was there for them. But still,... touching and tracing our scars is quite an exercise in Harry's hands. It was the burns that lead to him learning to play the guitar. That and Butters recommendation. None of the other forms of therapy for his hand would have suited Harry’s personality and he couldn’t afford a piano, or keyboard or have had room for one in his tiny apartment. But yeah, his hands…

I like his eyes too, sure. Even though I still can’t really meet them. No actual soul gaze. Still, I know what Harry’s soul is like. I don’t need one to tell me what kind of man he is, who he is at his core. He’ll always choose to do the right thing, if he can just figure out what that is. Sometimes he’s not sure. Sometimes I’m not sure. Yet, the glimpses I get show me the intelligence behind them. -He’s not always quick but he generally gets there in the end.- And I’ve seen the sparkle of his humor in those eyes, the sharp look of fear, the flare of anger, the glare of challenge. Very expressive, even in short glimpses, those deep brown eyes. They remind me of Mac’s brown bottles of ale; rich, deeply reflective. But oh, those eyes can be frightening when they go flat and emotionless. When they look like that somebody’s getting burned, or maybe frozen these days.

Still the hands- It’s the hands I first touched. Just brushes of fingertips at first. Like when we were passing things to each other; cups of coffee, papers, tools. When he was gone the one thing I regretted most was that we hadn’t touched enough- that I hadn’t touched _him_ enough. And secondly that I’d held myself back from him. I’d wanted to feel those hands not just on my back or arms but on my bare skin. I thought I’d lost the chance.

And even when he was back, well he wasn’t really back and I was scared. Scared he wasn’t really Harry anymore. Scared he wouldn’t survive that thing in his head and he’d leave me- again. But now, even if Mab has a hold over him, he’s still Harry. He’s back and he’s with me and I get to touch him and have those hands touch me; wrap themselves around my waist, run themselves up my back, over my hips, and other more intimate -um fun?- places.

The second most attractive thing about Harry though is his voice. That deep baritone just hits me in all the right places. Even though he can’t carry a tune in a bucket, I love to hear him try. But I’m glad he only ‘sings’ in the shower and only when he can get a warm shower. Yeah, just thinking about that makes me smile. -And yet, he seems to manage to stay on key when he sings lullabies to Maggie. Hmmm,-

I’ve heard Harry scream in pain, shriek in sheer terror, roar a battle cry, cry out in anger and trumpet out a challenge and I’ve thrilled to them all. But I love best two things; the lullabies he ‘sings’ to Maggie and the purr he makes when he’s contented, usually, when we’re snuggled up together under the sheets. Oh, one more- make that three things; add the growl he makes when he’s about to drive me crazy. Oh, I think that’s a go-o-o-d noise. 

But it was the hands first.


End file.
